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When  She  Was  About  Sixteen 


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WHEN 

SHE  WAS  ABOUT 
SIXTEEN 


BY 


JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HOWARD    CHANDLER    CHRISTY 


THE    BOBBS  MERRILL    COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


JAMES 

WHITCOMB 

RILEY 


JAP    MILLER 


1257974 


When  She  Was  About  Sixteen 


ALL  'at  I  ever  want  to  be 

Is  ist  to  be  a  man  like  Pa 

When  he  wuz  young  an'  married  Ma! 

Uncle  he  telled  us  yisterdy 

Ist  all  about  it  then — 'cause  they, 

My  Pa  an'  Ma,  wuz  bofe  away 

To  'tend  P'tracted  Meetin',  where 

My  Pa  an'  Ma  is  allus  there 

When  all  the  big  "Revivals"  is, 

An'    "Love-Feasts,"    too,    an'    "Class," 

"Prayer," 

An'  when's  "Comoonian  Servicis." 
An',  yes,  an'  Uncle  said  to  not 
To  never  tell  the m  ner  let  on 
Like  we  knowed  now  ist  how  they  got 
First  married.  So — while  they  wuz  gone- 
Uncle  he  telled  us  ever'thing — 


an 


'Bout  how  my  Pa  wuz  ist  a  pore 
Farm-boy. 


'Bout  how  my  Pa  wuz  1st  a  pore 
Farm-boy. — He  says,  I  tell  you  what, 
Your  Pa  wuz  pore!    But  neighbers  they 
All  liked  him — all  but  one  old  man 
An'  his  old  wife  that  folks  all  say 
Nobody  liked,  ner  never  can! 
Yes,  sir!  an'  Uncle  purt'-nigh  swore 
About  the  mean  old  man  an'  way 
He  treat'  my  Pa! — 'cause  he's  a  pore 
Farm-hand — but  prouder  'an  a  king — 
An'  ist  work'  on,  he  did,  an'  wore 
His  old  patched  clo'es,  ist  anyway, 
So  he  saved  up  his  wages — then 
He  ist  worked  on  an'  saved  some  more, 
An'  ist  worked  on,  ist  night  an'  day — 
Till,  sir,  he  save'  up  nine  er  ten 
Er  hunnerd  dollars!   But  he  keep 
All  still  about  it,  Uncle  say- 
But  he  ist  thinks — an'  thinks  a  heap! 


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Theywuzist  sweethearts,  course  you  know 


Though  what  he  wuz  a-thinkin',  Pa 

He  never  tell'  a  soul  but  Ma— 

(Then,  course,  you  know,  he  wuzn't  Pa, 

An',  course,  you  know,  she  wuzn't  Ma— 

They  wuz  1st  sweethearts,  course  you  know) 

'Cause  Ma  wuz  ist  a  girl,  about 

Sixteen;  an'  when  my  Pa  he  go 

A-courtin'  her,  her  Pa  an'  Ma — 

The  very  first  they  find  it  out— 

Wuz  maddest  folks  you  ever  saw! 

'Cause  it  wuz  her  old  Ma  an'  Pa 

'At  hate'  my  Pa,  an'  toss  their  head, 

An'  ist  raise  Ned!   An'  her  Pa  said 

He'd  ruther  see  his  daughter  dead! 

An'  said  she's  ist  a  child! — an'  so 

Wuz  Pa! — An'  ef  he  wuz  man-grown 

An'  only  man  on  earth  below, 

His  daughter  shouldn't  marry  him 

Ef  he's  a  king  an'  on  his  throne! 


daughter  shouldn't  marry 
a  king  an'  on  his  throne! 


Pa's  chances  then  looked  mighty  slim 

Fer  certain,  Uncle  said.    But  he — 

He  never  told  a  soul  but  her 

What  he  wuz  keepin'  quiet  fer. 

Her  folks  ist  lived  a  mile  from  where 

He  lived  at — an'  they  drove  past  there 

To  git  to  town.   An'  ever'  one 

An'  all  the  neighbers  they  liked  her 

An'  showed  it!    But  her  folks — no,  sir!— 

Nobody  liked  her  parents  none! 

An'  so  when  they  shet  down,  you  know, 

On  Pa — an'  old  man  tell'  him  so — 

Pa  ist  went  back  to  work,  an'  she 

Ist  waited.   An',  sir!  purty  soon 

Her  folks  they  thought  he's  turned  his  eye 

Some  other  way — 'cause  by-an'-by 

They  heard  he'd  rented  the  old  place 

He  worked  on.    An'  one  afternoon 

A  neighber,  that  had  bust'  a  trace, 


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An'  all  the  neighbors  they  liked  her 


He  tell'  the  old  man  they  wuz  signs 
Around  the  old  place  that  the  young 
Man  wuz  a-fixin'  up  the  old 
Log  cabin  some,  an'  he  had  brung 
New  furnichur  from  town;  an'  told 
How  th'  old  house  'uz  whitewashed  clean 
An'  sweet — wiv  morning-glory  vines 
An'  hollyhawks  all  'round  the  door 
An'  winders — an'  a  bran'-new  floor 
In  th'  old  porch — an'  wite-new  green 
An'-red  pump  in  the  old  sweep-well! 
An',  Uncle  said,  when  he  hear  tell 
O'  all  them  things,  the  old  man  he 
1st  grin'  an'  says,  he  "reckon'  now 
Some  gal,  er  widder  anyhow, 
That  silly  boy  he's  coaxed  at  last 
To  marry  him!"  he  says,  says-ee, 
"An'  ef  he  has,  'so  mote  it  be'!" 


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Then  went  back  to  the  house  to  tell 
His  wife  the  news,  as  he  went  past 
The  smokehouse,  an'  then  wrent  on  in 
The  kitchen,  where  his  daughter  she 
Wuz  washin',  to  tell  her,  an'  grin 
An'  try  to  worry  her  a  spell ! 
The  mean  old  thing!    But  Uncle  said 
She  ain't  cry  much — ist  pull  her  old 
Sunbonnet  forrerds  on  her  head — 
So's  old  man  he  can't  see  her  face 
At  all!  An'  when  he  s'pose  he  scold 
An'  jaw  enough,  he  ist  clear'  out 
An'  think  he's  boss  of  all  the  place! 

Then  Uncle  say,  the  first  you  know 
They's  go'  to  be  a  Circus-show 
In  town ;  an'  old  man  think  he'll  take 
His  wife  an'  go.   An'  when  she  say 
To  take  their  daughter,  too,  she  shake 
Her  head  like  she  don't  'want  to  go; 


' 


0     ,  pull  her  old 

bunbonnet  forrerds  on  her  head— 


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An'  when  he  sees  she  wants  to  stay, 

The  old  man  takes  her,  anyway! 

An'  so  she  went!   But  Uncle  he 

Said  she  looked  mighty  sweet  that  day, 

Though  she  wuz  pale  as  she  .could  be, 

A-speshully  a-drivin'  by 

Wite  where  her  beau  lived  at,  you  know; 

But  out  the  corner  of  his  eye 

The  old  man  watch'  her;  but  she  throw 

Her  pairsol  'round  so  she  can't  see 

The  house  at  all!   An'  then  she  hear 

Her  Pa  an'  Ma  a-talkin'  low 

An'  kindo'  laughin'-like;  but  she 

1st  set  there  in  the  seat  behind, 

P'tendin'  like  she  didn't  mind. 


An'  when  he  sees  she  wants  to  stay, 
The  old  man  takes  her,  anyway! 


An',  Uncle  say,  when  they  got  past 

The  young  man's  place,  an'  'pearantly 

He  wuzn't  home,  but  off  an'  gone 

To  town,  the  old  man  turned  at  last 

An'  talked  back  to.  his  daughter  there, 

All  pleasant-like,  from  then  clean  on 

Till  they  got  into  town,  an'  where 

The  Circus  wuz,  an'  on  inside 

O'  that,  an'  through  the  crowd,  on  to 

The  very  top  seat  in  the  tent 

Wite  next  the  band — a-bangin'  through 

A  tune  'at  bust  his  yeers  in  two! 

An'  there  the  old  man  scrouged  an'  tried 

To  make  his  wife  set  down,  an'  she 

A-yellin'!   But  ist  what  she  meant 

He  couldn't  hear,  ner  couldn't  see 

Till  she  turned  'round  an'  pinted.   Then 

He  turned  an'  looked — an'  looked  again!  .  . 


Then 
He  turned  an'  looked— an'  looked  again!  .  . 


He  1st  saw  neighbers  ever'where — 

But,  sir,  his  daughter  wuzn't  there! 

An',  Uncle  says,  he  even  saw 

Her  beau,  you  know,  he  hated  so; 

An'  he  wuz  with  some  other  girl. 

An'  then  he  heard  the  Clown  "Haw-haw!" 

An'  saw  the  horses  wheel  an'  whirl 

Around  the  ring,  an'  heard  the  zipp 

O'  the  Ringmaster's  long  slim  whip — 

But  that  whole  Circus,  Uncle  said, 

Wuz  all  inside  the  old  man's  head! 

An'  Uncle  said,  he  didn't  find 
His  daughter  all  that  afternoon — 
An'  her  Ma  says  she'll  lose  her  mind 
Ef  they  don't  find  her  purty  soon! 


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An'  then  he  heard  the  Clown  "Haw-haw! 


But,  though  they  looked  all  day,  an'  stayed 
There  fer  the  night  p'formance — not 
No  use  at  all ! — they  never  laid 
Their  eyes  on  her.   An'  then  they  got 
Their  team  out,  an'  the  old  man  shook 
His  fist  at  all  the  town,  an'  then 
Shook  it  up  at  the  moon  ag'in, 
An'  said  his  time  'ud  come,  some  day! 
An'  jerked  the  lines  an'  driv  away. 

Uncle,  he  said,  he  'spect,  that  night, 

The  old  man's  madder  yet  when  they 

Drive  past  the  young  man's  place,  an'  hear 

A  fiddle  there,  an'  see  a  light 

Inside,  an'  shadders  light  an'  gay 

A-dancin'  'crosst  the  winder-blinds. 

An'  some  young  chaps  outside  yelled,  "Say! 

What  'pears  to  be  the  hurry — hey?" 

But  the  old  man  ist  whipped  the  lines 

An'  streaked  past  like  a  runaway! 


\ 


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An'  some  young  chaps  outside  yelled 
What  'pears  to  be  the  hurry— hey?" 


An'  now  you'll  be  su'prised,  I  bet! — 
I  hardly  ain't  quit  laughin'  yet 
When  Uncle  say,  that  jamboree 
An'  dance  an'  all — w'y,  that's  a  sign 
That  any  old  man  ort  to  see, 
As  plain  as  8  and  i  makes  9, 
That  they's  a  weddin  wite  inside 
That  very  house  he's  whippin'  so 
To  git  apast! — An',  sir!  the  bride 
There's  his  own  daughter!   Yes,  an'  oh! 
She's  my  Ma  now — an'  young  man  she 
Got  married,  he's  my  Pa!   Whoop-ee! 
But  Uncle  say  to  not  laugh  all 
The  laughin'  yet,  but  please  save  some 
To  kindo'  spice  up  what's  to  come! 


-•"7——  , 


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She's  my  Ma  now— an'  young  man  she 
Got  married,  he's  my  Pa!     Whoop-ee! 


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Then  Uncle  say,  about  next  day 

The  neighbers  they  begin  to  call 

An'  wish  'em  well,  an'  say  how  glad 

An'  proud  an'  tickled  ever'  way 

Their  friends  all  is — an'  how  they  had 

The  lovin'  prayers  of  ever'  one 

That  had  homes  of  their  own!    But  none 

Said  nothin'  'bout  the  home  that  she 

Had  run  away  from!   So  she  sighed 

Sometimes — an'  wunst  she  purt'-nigh  cried. 

Well,  Uncle  say,  her  old  Pa,  he 
1st  like  to  died,  he  wuz  so  mad! 
An'  her  Ma,  too!  But  by-an'-by 

They  cool  down  some. 

An',  'bout  a  week, 

She  want  to  see  her  Ma  so  bad, 

She  think  she'll  haf  to  go!  An'  so 

She  coax  him;  an'  he  kiss  her  cheek 

An'  say,  Lord  bless  her,  course  they'll  go! 


An',  Uncle  say,  when  they're  bofe  come 
A-knockin'  there  at  her  old  home— 
W'y,  first  he  know,  the  door  it  flew 
Open,  all  quick,  an'  she's  jerked  in, 
An',  quicker  still,  the  door's  banged  to 
An'  locked:  an'  crosst  the  winder-sill 
The  old  man  pokes  a  shotgun  through 
An'  says  to  git!   "You  stold  my  child," 
He  says:    "An',  now  she's  back,  w'y,  you 
Clear  out,  this  minute,  er  I'll  kill 
You!  Yes,  an'  I  'ull  kill  her,  too, 
Ef  you  don't  go!"  An'  then,  all  wild, 
His  young  wife  begs  him  please  to  gol 
An'  so  he  turn'  an'  walk' — all  slow 
An'  pale  as  death,  but  awful  still 
An'  ca'm — back  to  the  gate,  an'  on 
Into  the  road,  where  he  had  gone 
So  many  times  alone,  you  know! 


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'Cause  there  he  stick',  ist  thataway, 
An'  don't  go  nowheres  any  more. 


An',  Uncle  say,  a  whipperwill 
Holler  so  lonesome,  as  he  go 
On  back  to'rds  home,  he  say  he  'spec* 
He  ist  'ud  like  to  wring  its  neck! 
An'  I  ain't  think  he's  goin'  back 
All  by  hisse'f — but  Uncle  say 
That's  what  he  does,  an'  it's  a  f ac'  1 

An'  'pears-like  he's  gone  back  to  stay — 
'Cause  there  he  stick',  ist  thataway, 
An'  don't  go  nowheres  any  more, 
Ner  don't  nobody  ever  see 
Him  set  his  foot  outside  the  door — 
Till  'bout  five  days,  a  boy  loped  down 
The  road,  a-comin'  past  from  town, 


-vv 


An'  then,  all  wild 
His  young  wife  begs  him  please  to  go  ! 


An'  he  called  to  him  from  the  gate, 
An'  sent  the  old  man  word:   He's  thought 
Things  over  now;  an',  while  he  hate 
To  lose  his  wife,  he  think  she  ought 
To  mind  her  Pa  an'  Ma  an'  do 
Whatever  they  advise  her  to. 
An'  sends  word,  too,  to  come  an'  git 
Her  new  things  an'  the  furnichur 
That  he  had  special'  bought  fer  her — 
'Cause,  now  that  they  wuz  goin'  to  quit, 
She's  free  to  ist  have  all  of  it; — 
So,  fer  his  love  fer  her,  he  say 
To  come  an'  git  it,  wite  away. 


*  .?,' 


V>  \  A 


An'  spang/  that  very  afternoon, 
Here  come  her  Ma — 1st  'bout  as  soon 
As  old  man  could  hitch  up  an'  tell 
Her  "hurry  back!"   An'  'bout  as  quick 
As  she's  drove  there  to  where  my  Pa — 
I  mean  to  where  her  son-in-law- 
Lives  at,  he  meets  her  at  the  door 
All  smilin',  though  he's  awful  pale 
An'  trimbly — like  he's  ist  been  sick; 
He  take  her  in  the  house — An',  'fore 
She  knows  it,  they's  a  cellar-door 
Shet  on  her,  an'  she  hears  the  click 
Of  a'  old  rusty  padlock!   Then, 
Uncle,  he  say,  she  kindo'  stands 
An'  thinks — an'  thinks — an'  thinks  ag'in— 
An'  mayby  thinks  of  her  own  child 
Locked  up — like  her!    An'  Uncle  smiled, 
An'  I  ist  laughed  an'  clapped  my  hands! 


Shet  on  her,  an'  she  hears  the  click 
Of  a'  old  rusty  padlock! 


An'  there  she  stayed!   An'  she  can  cry 

1st  all  she  want!  an'  yell  an'  kick 

To  1st  her  heart's  content!  an'  try 

To  pry  out  wiv  a  quiltin'-stick! 

But  Uncle  say  he  guess  at  last 

She  'bout  give  up,  an'  holler'  through 

The  door-crack  fer  to  please  to  be 

So  kind  an'  good  as  send  an'  tell 

The  old  man,  like  she  want  him  to, 

To  come,  'fore  night,  an'  set  her  free, 

Er — they  wuz  rats  down  there!  An'  yell 

She  did,  till,  Uncle  say,  it  soured 

The  morning's  milk  in  the  back  yard! 

But  all  the  answer  reached  her,  where 

She's  skeerd  so  in  the  dark  down  there, 

Wuz  ist  a  mutterin'  that  she  heard, — 

"I've  sent  him  word! — I've  sent  him  'word!" 

An'  shore  enough,  as  Uncle  say, 

He  has  "sent  word!" 


She's  skeered  so  in  the  dark  down  there 


Well,  it's  plum  night 
An*  all  the  house  is  shet  up  tight- 
Only  one  winder  'bout  half-way 
Raised  up,  you  know;  an'  ain't  no  light 
Inside  the  whole  house,  Uncle  say. 
Then,  first  you  know,  there  where  the  team 
Stands  hitched  yet,  there  the  old  man  stands — 
A'  old  tin  lantern  in  his  hands 
An'  monkey-wrench;  an'  he  don't  seem 
To  make  things  out,  a-standin'  there. 
He  comes  on  to  the  gate  an'  feels 
An'  fumbles  fer  the  latch — then  hears 
A  voice  that  chills  him  to  the  heels— 
"You  halt!  an'  stand  right  where  you  air!" 
Then,  sir!  my — my — his  son-in-law, 
There  at  the  winder  wiv  his  gun, 
He  tell  the  old  man  what  he's  done: 


There  at  the  winder  wiv 
He  tell  the  old  man  what  he 


"You  hold  my  wife  a  prisoner — 
An'  your  wife,  drat  ye!   I've  got  her! 
An'  now,  sir,"  Uncle  say  he  say, 
"You  ist  turn  round  an'  climb  wite  in 
That  wagon,  an'  drive  home  ag'in 
An'  bring  my  wife  back  wite  away, 
An'  we'll  trade  then— an'  not  before 
Will  I  unlock  my  cellar-door— 
Not  fer  your  wife's  sake  ner  your  own, 
But  my  wife's  sake — an'  hers  alone!" 
An',  Uncle  say,  it  don't  sound  like 
It's  so,  but  yet  it  is!— He  say, 
From  wite  then,  somepin'  seem'  to  strike 
The  old  man's  funny-bone  some  way; 
An',  minute  more,  that  team  o'  his 
Went  tearin'  down  the  road  k'<whiz! 


An',  minute  more,  that  team  o    his 
Went  tearin'  down  the  road  k'whizf 


An'  in  the  same  two-forty  style 

Come  whizzin'  back!   An'  oh,  that-air 

Sweet  girl  a-cryin'  all  the  while, 

Thinkin'  about  her  Ma  there,  shet 

In  her  own  daughter's  cellar,  where— 

1st  week  or  so  she's  kep'  house  there — 

She  hadn't  time  to  clean  it  yet! 

So  when  her  Pa  an'  her  they  git 

There — an'  the  young  man  grab'  an'  kiss 

An'  hug  her,  till  she  make  him  quit 

An'  ask  him  where  her  mother  is. 

An'  then  he  smile'  an'  try  to  not; 

Then  slow-like  find  th'  old  padlock  key, 

An'  blow  a'  oat-hull  out  of  it, 

An'  then  stoop  down  there  where  he's  got 

Her  Ma  locked  up  so  keerfully— 

An'  where,  wite  there,  he  say  he  thought 

It  ort  to  been  the  old  man — though 

Uncle,  he  say,  he  reckon  not — 


an'  the  young  man  grab'  an"  kiss 
An'  hug  her,  till  she  make  him  quit 


When  out  she  bounced,  all  tickled  so 

To  taste  fresh  air  ag'in  an'  find 

Her  folks  wunst  more,  an'  grab'  her  child 

An'  cry  an'  laugh,  an'  even  go 

An'  hug  the  old  man ;  an'  he  wind 

Her  in  his  arms,  an'  laugh,  an'  pat 

Her  back,  an'  say  he's  riconciled, 

In  such  a  happy  scene  as  that, 

To  swop  his  daughter  for  her  Ma, 

An'  have  so  smart  a  son-in-law 

As  they  had!    "Yes,  an'  he's  my  Pa!" 

I  laugh'  an'  yell',  "Hooray-hooraw!" 


- 


Yes,  an'  he's  my  Pa!' 
I  laugh'  an'  yell',  "  Hooray-hooraw !  " 


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